


And A Little Child Will Lead Him

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-21
Updated: 2002-07-21
Packaged: 2018-10-07 04:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10351944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: Season 1: spoilers from SingularityWhile on vacation Jack’s eyes are opened and his heart is broken.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

And A Little Child Will Lead Him

##  And A Little Child Will Lead Him

##### Written by Gallagater   
Comments? Write to us at [7j4him@prodigy.net](mailto:7j4him@prodigy.net)

  * Season 1: spoilers from Singularity 
  * While on vacation Jack’s eyes are opened and his heart is broken. 
  * PG [A] [D] 



* * *

 

SG-1 is on stand down and in his usual straight for manner, Hammond told us to get the hell out of the mountain and take some time off.It was one order we all followed without questions, even, and I know this is hard to believe, Daniel and Carter. It reminds me of that tube of mercury I knocked over in Carter’s lab last month. Everyone has scattered, likes those beads of mercury, in all directions. Carter has gone off world with Sg-2 requesting a chance to spend some time with Kendra on Cimmeria. The captain wants a chance to experiment on that healing devise that would and I quote, "greatly benefit both the Cimmerians and the people of Earth." I snorted when I heard that load of crap and got the eye from Hammond. Couldn’t help it though. ‘Ya, sure you betcha.’ When have any of the aliens ever done anything that would benefit anyone but numero uno? When it came to Thor and his hammer device it was Caviar Empty or was it Caveat Emptor, damn, I should pay more attention to all that Latin crap, Daniel is always trying to drill into my head. Oh well, Carter will no doubt enjoy her little field trip. And cynicism aside I have to admit Kendra was okay for an ex-goa’uld. She did help save our butts. So maybe it won’t be a wasted trip for Carter. 

And Teal’c, well no surprise there, when given the opportunity to go visit his family. Bra’tac is joining him at the Land of Light, a regular old Jaffa family reunion interplanetary style. Teal’c said something about training Rya’c in the ancient art of Quenpha, what ever that is. Sure, wanna bet a months pay old Teal’c had something else on his mind when he stepped into the wormhole? It’s been a long time since he has seen Drey’auc. A long time, if you get my drift. Bet Teal’c is making up for lost time, a conjugal visit with **all** the trimmings. Could be a new little Jaffa or Jaffet on the scene in about nine months. Wonder if Janet will make a inner stellar house call? Have to check on that.

Then there is good old Danny Boy, space monkey, best friend extraordinare. Well, he took off like a bat out of hell, practically before the words were out of Hammond’s mouth. Who would have thought the kid actually had a life outside the mountain? I can hardly get him to leave his office and catch a movie and it practically takes a direct order before he’ll stop studying a rock long enough to grap a pizza; but some ex-professor emails him with a transcript and he leaves without a second thought. Oh sure, he thinks it might be Gou’ald oriented and sure he asked me to go with him; but who the hell wants to hang around the basement of a museum in Chicago. I haven’t been much into basements since I was fifteen and Mary Alice Murphy offered to show me her coal furnace. So okay, I could knock around the exhibits for a few days, but how long does it take to see a dinosaur named Sue. Daniel even suggested a visit to my old neighborhood. And my final answer would be, ‘Why?’ Don’t need a trip back to the Windy City to stir up a pot full of bad memories. Built those bridges, crossed over them and burned them to the ground. Besides almost everyone I ever knew there’s gone now. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. Go directly to jail, let it lie, flyboy. 

Let Daniel have his fun. I’m going south. Haven’t had time for a road trip in a long time, too long. Been too busy baby-sitting my team, the country, the world, the galaxy. All my kids are safe, happy and playing quietly with their toys. Time for some R & R. Unwind, catch a few ball games, drink a few beers and put some miles between me and the stuff that makes hair turn gray. My kind of outlet. Oh, yeah. 

~O~O~O~O~

O’Neill’s big Harley roared down Interstate 75 towards Atlanta. It had been a long trip, but it was good to get away. Hammond had surprised him and just before he left the mountain, the general had handed the colonel an envelope.

"Thought you might enjoy taking in a few ball games, Colonel. Wish I could go with you."

Jack opened the envelope to find tickets for Turner Stadium, second row behind the dugout. Before he could even express his thanks the general grinned at him and said in a conspiratory tone, "It pays to know high people in low places. Go root the Rockies to victory, Jack."

That had been several days ago. Now as he looked for a hotel, the colonel realized just how tired he really was. Not just from the trip, the weather had been idealic, but mentally he was exhausted and ready for a break. 

Finding a quiet clean looking hotel, Jack checked in and unpacked. Changing into his trunks, he decided to go for a swim and loosen up his road weary muscles. Grabbing a towel he headed towards the stairs. Jack noted happily that the pool area was empty and he lost no time in driving head first into the deep end deliberately ignoring the sign that forbade diving. Surfacing in the middle of the pool he shook the stray drops from his eyes relishing the cool water invigorating his tired body. After swimming several laps, Jack turned over and floated lazily, soaking in the hot Atlanta rays and feeling the tension ebbing from his body and spirit. He had relaxed almost to the point of falling asleep when a large beach ball hit him squarely in the stomach. This was followed quickly by several tsunami splashes, screams of excitement, and waves of water cascading over the unsuspecting colonel’s head. 

Choking and spitting the excess water from his lungs, the quasi-drown man stood up and looked around him in wonder. The quiet pristine paradise had changed dramatically as five young children of varying ages proceeded to scramble in and out of the pool attempting to set a world record for cannonballs. Jack stared in amazement as a tiny dark hair girl around six plunged fearlessly into the fracas after her older brothers. The children screamed, laughed and paid not one iota of attention to their beleaguered mother who stood on the edge of the pool attempting to get her rowdy brood to apologize to the poor man they had beaned with their beachball. 

Standing to his full intimidating 6’-2", the dripping colonel roared,"Attention!" 

The effect was immediate. The only sound that could be heard was that of water lapping the azure tile sides of the pool as five pairs of big brown eyes looked fearfully towards the drenched stranger and then skidded over to their mother who looked as if she wanted to hide in the towel hamper. 

"What’s the rules of this game?" the colonel’s voice broke through the silence. "Can anyone play?"

By the time Jack got back to his room, he was exhausted and had made five, six if you counted mom, friends for life.

Taking a long hot shower to easy tired muscles, Jack sighed with contentment. It had been a long time, too long, since he had played with children. It was good to know he still had it in him. Munching on the pizza he had ordered, Jack scanned the newspaper. The game would start at 5:00 and from what he had heard, Atlanta traffic at rush hour was a pain in the proverbial ass. He needed to leave in plenty of time to find parking and hit the concession stand for a cold one or two before the first pitch. 

~O~O~O~O~

The game was great, that is if you were a Rockie fan, if you were from Atlanta it sucked. Juan Uribe had stolen home for the win in extra innings. The crowd had gone crazy. A shower of coke cups, ice, and a snowstorm of popcorn filled the air as the fans either cheered hysterically or groaned in misery. Shaking the stray popcorn out of his hair, Jack stood up and stretched. It was going to take a while to get out of here. Jack glanced at the fans filing out in a semblance of order, rehashing the game play by play. He wished Daniel, or better yet Teal’c was here to share the game. Avid learner that he was, Teal’c would have had no problem catching onto the rules of the America’s favorite past time. Jack grinned as he thought about what activity his Chulakian friend was probably engaged in, America’s other favorite past time. ‘Wonder if T had gotten to first base yet?’

Suddenly from the sea of people, O’Neill’s eyes locked onto a small fair haired boy wearing a Rockies cap and T-shirt. The little boy was obviously enjoying an animated conversation with a man who could only have been his dad. 

The unexpected lump that formed in Jack’s throat caught him by surprise. ‘Charlie would have ... had loved this.’ They had gone to the ballpark any time Jack’s busy schedule would allow them to sneak to a game. Sara had pretended to pout about being left out and then surprised her boys with season tickets. They were planning on going to their third game of the season that day. Jack had come home early, eager to spend some special time with Charlie. Walking quickly across the yard with the confidence of a man who has everything, he had nuzzled Sara’s neck which promised something better later, asked about her day and looked around to see if Charlie was ready to go. He could still see the happiness shining in her eyes as she showed him the school pictures. It was the last time he had ever seen her happy. Seconds later the shot sounded that shattered their lives, their souls, and their marriage like a broken mirror, splintered beyond repair, promising seven years, hell, a life time of bad luck. 

The tickets were still in his wallet, a constant reminder of his failure to protect his family, his failure as a father. 

The hot dog he had scarfed down in the seventh, threatened to make a unwelcome appearance as Jack swallowed back the dark memories. Someone sounded an airhorn and he jumped. A teenager standing nearby laughed and elbowed this buddies as he made some clever remark at O’Neill’s expense. Jack paid no attention. Suddenly and without warning he panicked. ‘God, he had to get out of this crowd.’ Claustrophobic and with twilight stealing into his soul, Jack pushed, twisted and fought his way towards the exit, mumbling words of apology to a few angry fans until he found himself outside the stadium and away from the mass of people who couldn’t share his pain. His ragged breathing and flushed face caused more than a few uneasy glances to be thrown his direction.

He began to walk away from the crowds, the noise, and his memories, heedless of the surroundings. There were fewer people now and as the streetlights began to flicker on in the dusk, Jack felt someone bump into him. "Sorry, Mister," a young teen muttered. It took Jack a minute to realize something in the kid’s voice didn’t ring true. Shaking his head to clear away the thoughts pressing in on him, he reached for his handkerchief to wipe his sweat drenched face and realized the kid had heisted his wallet. 

Turning quickly he could just make out two or three running figures fleeing down the block into the gloom of evening. Depression evaporated as angry flamed through him. ‘Damn those kids. Who the hell did they think they were stealing from him?’ O’Neill ran down the darkening streets determined to catch the young thieves and teach them a lesson or two. Dodging down an alley and ducking behind a dumpster, the teens stopped, attempting to calm their pounding hearts. ‘Shit, who would have thought the old guy would have chased them like that.’ Riffling through the wallet, their eyes lit up greedily at the wad of green. "Jackpot." Tearing through the rest of the wallet’s contents recklessly, the boys threw the empty wallet on the ground and looked up as a group of young children ran into the alley.

"It’s just some of those homeless kids," one of the young thieves snorted.

"Let’s get out of here anyway," his partner muttered. "We made a haul." Nodding, the teens ran off towards another sidestreet and disappeared.

Seeing the young hoods leave, the children inched forward to see the contents of the wallet strewn in the dirt. One of the children, a little girl, began to carefully pick up the items and brush the dirt from them one by one.

"Come on, Jess," an older child urged, "leave that stuff alone. You know those guys are trouble. They’ll hurt you, if they catch you messing with their stuff."

The other children nodded and began walking back down the alley. The child ignored the others and was just completing as a tall man wearing a worn baseball cap hurried towards her. 

As he shouted, "Hey you kids, have you seen..." Jack was startled to see the group of children scatter in panic. The alley was suddenly empty except for a young dark haired girl with wide frightened eyes. Temporarily forgetting the wallet he had spotted in her trembling hand, Jack knelt before the child and held out his hand. He dropped it quickly when the child shuffled back a few feet, putting a safe distance between them.

‘Smooth move, O’Neill. The kid’s scared to death of you,’ he berated himself. 

"My name’s Jack. What’s yours?"

The frightened child shot a quick glance at his face and then studied the ground. She was silent for so long that Jack had decided she was not going to answer him. Finally a small voice broke the silence of the alley, "Jessie". 

"Jessie is a pretty name. Do you live around here?" Jack asked cautiously not wanting to spook the child. 

The little girl nodded and glanced over her shoulder.

"Does your Mama and Daddy know you’re out here by yourself? It’s getting dark and there might be bad people out here who could hurt you."

Seeing the child’s face change as fright pinched her features, Jack said quickly, "Why don’t I walk you home. We can keep each other company." He was startled when Jessie’s dark eyes stared intensely into his, reading, it seemed to the hardened colonel, the depths of his soul. He wondered if she would find it as wanting as he did.

"You’re sad, too", a small voice washed over him. 

Slowly he nodded, not trusting his voice. He blinked rapidly, tears making it hard to see, when a small dirty hand reached out and wiped away the evidence of his pain. ‘Geez, what was he, hormonal? He had been shot and he never cried. What was it with this kid?’ Jessie handed Jack the wallet she had carefully salvaged and watched as he stuffed it in his pants pocket without a second glance. Reaching out again, Jessie grasped Jack’s hand tightly and turned down the alley.

"I live this way", she said.

Amazed at the trust of this young girl, Jack felt anger surge through him. What kind of idiot parents let a little girl run the streets of Atlanta at dusk no less? He had first hand experience at how dangerous the streets could be and he was a full grown man. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. Feeling the tension vibrating through her new friend’s hand, Jessie looked up into Jack’s face. Seeing his clinched jaw and anger-filled eyes, Jessie shivered.

Realizing he was unintentionally frightening the child, Jack consciously willed himself to calm down. He forced a smile on his face and at her tentative grin in reply his artificial smile was replaced by the genuine article. 

"It’s not far", Jessie said as she led him out of the gloom of the alley. "I need to hurry or Mama will get worried. She don’t like me to play in the alley."

"Your Mama’s right, you shouldn’t..." What ever words of wisdom O’Neill was about to utter died in his throat as Jessie led him towards a huddled mass of dirty cardboard boxes arranged in random disorder under a bridge. 

Oblivious to her new found friend’s look of disbelief, Jessie led him through the clutter to a small shelter separated slightly from the others. Just then the cardboard door was pushed open and a slight dark haired woman stepped out. 

A look of panic crossed the woman’s face when she saw her daughter with the tall stranger whose bearings, despite his casual dress, screamed military .

"Mama, this is my friend Jack," the little girl began. 

Sensing the woman’s fear, the colonel loosened his tied tongue and said quietly, "Jack O’Neill, ma’am."

In a vain attempt to ignore the man, the poor woman spoke to her daughter, "Jessie, I’ve told you not to talk to strangers. It’s dangerous. Come in now, it’s almost dark."

"Your daughter was helping me, ma’am." He stopped. Jack simply didn’t know what to say. ‘Man, why couldn’t Daniel be here. He was good with words.’ Jack felt like a fool staring at the woman in front of him. The awkward silence was broken when a toddler’s whimper was heard within the shelter. 

"Jessie go in and take care of your brother."

Reluctantly , yet obediently, Jessie let go of Jack’s hand and turned to go. "Bye, Jack. Thank you for walking me home."

Before he could answer the little girl slipped behind the cardboard door and Jack stood facing the woman. 

"I’m sorry if I frightened you, ma’am, I was worried about Jessie being in out in the streets. As his words registered he stopped again, embarrassed at his own tackless statement.

"She’s used to the streets, Mr. O’Neill.", the woman answered with a flash of anger in her eyes. 

Jack O’Neill, warrior, defender of Earth, knight of the galaxy, fled at the look in the slight woman’s eyes. Glancing back over his shoulder, Jack saw the woman’s shoulders droop in a soundless sigh and turn back towards her home and her children. The gesture shot through O’Neill like few things ever had. He stop his flight and looked around. Ragged people , all colors, all ages, sat huddled in small groups. Scrawny dogs darted around and as Jack watched a large rat scurried between shadows. Curbing a shudder, he watched as a mother led a toddler away from a fire burning in a barrel. Even with childish laughter filling the air as a group of young people played tag, there was a thick depression in the air. O’Neill watched as a group of men passed a bottle. Defeated eyes met his briefly and Jack read the resentment aimed at him. He didn’t belong here. Turning away, Jack began the long walk back to the parking lot where he had left his bike. 

Even the cool night air blowing in his face as he rode back to his hotel couldn’t distract Jack from the scene. It played over and over in his mind. The slumped shoulders, the filth, the eyes filled with hunger, and Jessie...Damn.

Sitting in his room, Jack moodily picked through his wallet, arranging the ID, the pictures, the tickets, now torn and stained with dirt. Walking over to the king size bed, the bed bigger than the box Jessie and her family called home, Jack stretched out and reached for the remote. He surfed the channels, but even the hockey game failed to hold his attention. Turning off the TV and throwing the remote in a chair, Jack covered his eyes with his arm and released a gut deep sigh. It was a very long night. 

The next morning, O’Neill picked at his scrambled eggs in grumpy isolation. Staring into his coffee, Jack wondered what Jessie was having for breakfast, wondered if Jessie was having breakfast. Slamming his newspaper on the table and earning the startled glances of the few early morning dinners, the agitated colonel left his meal uneaten and walked towards the desk. After cashing a check, O’Neill found himself drawn towards his parked bike. He didn’t really have any plans until the ball game this afternoon, but somehow that held no interest for him. Spotting a grocery store, the colonel made a quick U-turn and pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t take him long to do some shopping. His next stop was at an outlet mall. Man, he wished Carter was here to help. A matronly clerk finally took pity on the colonel and soon had several outfits picked after Jack had done his best to describe Jessie and her mother. He had to venture a guess when it came time to buy things for Jessie’s little brother having never seen him. He finally settled on purchasing several different sizes figuring that someone in the cardboard settlement could use the clothes. Stuffing his purchases into the saddlebags on his Harley, Jack turned back towards the city’s sidestreets.

For a man who had lived most of his adult life under an organization which regarded making plans as sacred as the Holy Bible, O’Neill was flying by the seat of his pants. He really had no idea what he was doing. Autopilot was definitely on as the big motorcycle pulled up in front of the cardboard shanties.

‘Way out of my comfort zone’, he thought as he looked warily around. Few people could be seen, although with the noise of the rush hour traffic on the bridge overhead, Jack wondered how anyone could sleep. Picking his way through the litter and debris, O’Neill carried his bags of groceries and clothing over to Jessie’s family’s small shelter. There he stopped, unsure of protocol. Should he knock at the cardboard door, stand out here like an idiot and yell, just leave the groceries and run, or what? Being unsure of himself was not a feeling Jack O’Neill appreciated. 

He was saved from himself when the door opened and two small children emerged. 

Startled at his presence they stopped, the younger one sticking a dirty thumb in an equally grubby mouth. After her initial start, Jessie quickly recovered and ran to hug her friend with a happy cry, "Jack, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again." 

Carefully setting the bag down and reaching out for the child, Jack returned the hug fiercely. He felt the girl tremble as her thin little body snuggled in his arms. 

They were interrupted by a woman’s voice, "Jessie, who are..."

Stepping out of the scant protection of the cardboard shelter, the nervous mother suddenly recognized the man holding her daughter.

" **Mr**. O’Neill, let go of my daughter."

Startled at the wrath he read in the eyes of the woman, Jack backed away, ignoring the child still clinging to his leg.

Having faced villains the likes of Apophis, Ra, and Kinsey, Jack suddenly found himself cowed by the fury of a mother defending her children. 

Reading the confusing in her friend’s face, Jessie yanked on the tall man’s leather jacket until he tore his eyes away from her mother and glanced down at the child. "It’s okay, Jack," she said in a confidant whisper, "Mama’s just scared. She’s scared a lot." 

Daring to shoot a quick glance back at the young mother, Jack was startled to see tears welling up in the flashing eyes.

"What do you want with us, mister?" Jessie’s mother asked brushing the back of her hand across the eyes that were betraying her. "Jessie told me you got back your wallet. She didn’t steal your money, if that’s what you thought."

"No," Jack stammered, "I didn’t think that. I just thought you might need a few things, so I stopped at the store and ...," his rehearsed speech died an ignoble death as O’Neill squirmed like a raw recruit. 

The woman’s eyes drilled into him and pinned him to the spot. "So you thought you would solve our problems and give us some handouts? the woman asked bitterly.

"But Mama, Jack’s a nice man," a little voice broke through, " I’m hungry and so is Adam." 

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Jack held out the bags of food and clothing. "I just wanted to thank Jessie for helping me, I’m sorry if I offended you."

Glancing at the laden bags, the woman looked at the ground and said quietly, "No Mr. O’Neill, I’m sorry. Thank you for helping my children and me. It’s just hard to take handouts."

Jack started to say he understood, but as he stood looking at the woman and her children living in the squalor of the cardboard shanty, he knew he couldn’t possible understand. Putting a comforting arm around the little girl clinging to his leg, he shared a rare, genuine smile and held out his hand. "Jack O’Neill, king of putting his foot in his mouth."

The woman paused and then a small light flickered in her hazel eyes. Taking the outstretched hand, she shook it firmly, " Amanda Deal, queen of jumping to conclusions. It’s nice to meet you Mr. O’Neill. Thank you.

"Please call me Jack," the colonel urged. 

"I’d invite you in, but ..." at Jack’s chagrined looked Amanda laughed. "It sure does feel good to laugh about something."

It was a day Jack would never forget. A precious memory to cling to when the tide of bad threatened to drown him. Watching Jessie’s face as she tried on and modeled the pretty dress he had brought her was better than any ball game. He played games with the children and soon had Adam squealing with laughter as he played airplane with the toddler.

Jessie showed Jack a nest with a newborn puppy squeaking in it. His heart melted as the tiny creature sought the comfort of its scrawny mother. Turning a pair of guileless eyes towards him, Jessie broke his hardened soldier’s heart when she looked up into his eyes and said, "Jack, you should take this puppy home with you. Just because I can’t have a home it doesn’t mean this puppy shouldn’t." Jack found that he couldn’t get an answer past the lump in his throat. 

He shared a simple meal with the family and learned that Amanda had married young. Things were fine at first. Life was good. Joe had a steady paycheck and the young couple had scraped up enough money to put a down payment on a small house. They had moved in and a few months later were thrilled to discover that they were expecting a baby. After Jessie was born, Amanda had given up her job and stayed home to care for the baby. It put a financial burden on Joe, and he began to use his credit card to make up the difference. By the time Adam had come along. Joe found himself in deep debt. He began to drink in an effort to forget his problems. Amanda hadn’t realized how bad the problems were until the day Joe’s company called and said he had been laid off. The couple tried to continue to make the payments, but with no savings, it was a downhill slide. Too soon the bank was calling and one day Joe just didn’t come home. Amanda never knew what had happened to him. She was left with two small children, no family, and before she knew what had happened they were out on the streets. 

Fearful and mistrustful of social service taking her children, Amanda had made the decision to make it on her own, but it was almost impossible for a young woman to find a job which paid enough for daycare and have any left over for food and a place to live. Jack shook his head at the Catch-22 this young woman had found herself in. Sometimes the world sucked.

It just didn’t seem fair, that some people had so much and others so little. 

The colonel surreptitiously blinked away a tear when Jessie shyly showed him her treasures. In a painted clay flower pot a scraggly marigold grew. Jessie told the colonel that a nice lady had come down to the day shelter and invited her to a church camp for a week. It had been one of the most exciting times of her life. For a week she had swam, made crafts, learned songs, and played games. The best part had been to sleep in a clean bed every night and eat three meals a day. One afternoon all the kids had painted the flower pots during craft time and the next day they had planted their flowers. When the church van had dropped Jessie off at the day shelter at the end of the week, she had carefully carried the little pot down the street and to her home under the bridge. She had faithfully watered the flower and brought it out into the sun. It was her beautiful treasure. 

Long after the children had fallen asleep, Jessie curled up in the safety of Jack’s arms, he and Amanda talked about how she could get out of this situation. Jack soon realized that there were no easy answers. He helped carry the sleeping children to bed, gave Amanda some cash and told her he would be back in the morning. He thought maybe he could make some calls to some government friends and get her some help. In the dark, O’Neill completely missed the fear that flashed in the woman’s eyes. 

~O~O~O~O~

As the big Harley announced his arrival the next day, Jack was startled when a bearded man glanced up at him and mumbled, "They’re gone."

"Excuse me," O’Neill asked. 

The man shrugged, "That woman and her kids are gone. They left during the night."

Jack ran towards the cardboard house home. Pushing the door aside he was stunned to see everything gone. On the floor he found a dirty piece of paper with a child’s scrawl on it. Carrying the paper out into the light O’Neill read, TO MY FRIEND JACK, inside the paper he found a picture of a little girl smiling broadly for the camera, mounted in a small wooden stick frame, Jessie’s camp picture. Her oasis in a desert of life that wasn’t fair. To my friend Jack... Oh shit. 

The colonel stumbled over to say goodbye to the puppy. He was kneeling there staring, but not seeing the tiny creature as he gently stoked the soft fur. The baby tried to suckle the finger stoking it which brought a small smile to O’Neill’s face. 

So deep in thought that he failed to hear the bearded man shuffle up behind him, Jack jumped when the man said, "Mother dog got killed last night." Pausing, he added callously, "Suppose this one will die soon, too."

As the words registered, Jack’s eyes filled with tears. This day just got better and better. Not. Kneeling in the dirt, under a rusting bridge, Jack O’Neill bowed his head and cried for a motherless puppy, a lost child, a frightened mother, and the injustice that ruled the earth. 

Much later, Jack slowly rose to his feet, his knees protesting the treatment they had received. Carefully he picked up the tiny puppy and carried it towards his bike. He would make sure this little fellow had a home and someone who loved him, but first he had to make a stop at the day shelter. He was going to make sure the camp that had brought sunshine into Jessie’s life received an anonymous donation so that they could continue to help other kids. His eyes had been opened. Never again would the homeless be a nameless group of bums to avoid. They had names. They had stories. They deserved a chance. Breaking the darkness with light, allowing a small seed of goodness to take root and grow, caring enough to do something. Jack had accepted the challenge.

~O~O~O~O~

It was a perfect day to introduce a child to the park. Sam, Daniel and Teal’c watched as the colonel walked towards Cassandra, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Cassandra. We have a rule here on Earth. Every kid has got to have a dog. This is a dog and he’s yours," the smile full of genuine happiness broke through and lit his face making his brown eyes sparkle, as he placed the wiggling bundle of energy in the little girl’s outstretched arms and watching with delight as they got to know each other. 

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> Author‘s Notes: This story is written for all the real life Jessie’s who don’t realize they are treasures waiting to be discovered.

* * *

>   
> © June, 2002 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



End file.
